No Escape
by Trip
Summary: Jeff Hardy can't stand Trish, until he's forced to get along
1. Olympic voice

Jeff Hardy walked down the cold corridor in the backstage of the arenea they were in. He noticed Trish Stratus walking in his direction. He sighed, and ducked quickly into the dressing room next to him.  
  
"Dude, knock first," came the "Olympic" voice of Kurt Angle.  
  
Jeff turned around to see Kurt, tightly gripping a towel around his waist.  
  
"Sorry Kurt," Jeff's lightly accented voice repiled, he tried not to look at Kurt.  
  
"Why are you here, Hardy?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I-er-wanted to ask, if you were-er-wrestling-um-Austin tonight?" Jeff stuttered off.  
  
"Right," Angle said slowly, and sarcastically, "No, I have to wrestle Booker T and RVD in a Handicap tonight."  
  
"Oh, just wonderin', I have to get ready for my match tonight," Jeff slipped out of the small dressing room.  
  
Trish stood outside of the curtain, she was surpossed to interfere in Jeff's match.  
  
After performing a Swanton Bomb, Jeff staggered slowly to his feet.   
  
Ivory ran quickly at Jeff, swinging a chair at his rainbow head.  
  
Trish grabbed the cold steel chair, and aimed it at Ivory, knocking her out cold. She leaned down and laid Jeff's arm across Lance Storm's chest. She slid out of the ring, and helped the ref into the ring.  
  
Jeff got the three count, and Trish jumped into the air.  
  
She quickly slid back into the ring, and helped Jeff to his feet.  
  
He looked down at her, and tried to keep her in focus.  
  
She placed a manicured hand on either side of his face, and pressed the lips of her "Onscreen" boyfriend onto her's.   
  
Jeff allowed the kiss to get deeper than he intended to. It was obvious that Trish wanted it, much more than he was ready to.  
  
He pulled back, and Trish helped him from the ring, and up the ramp.  
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Thanks for reading, you all know that I have not EVER met the Sexy Skittle, or any other WWF-a-ters! ( 


	2. Wait, this isn't the way...

Jeff showered, and changed into a black wife-beater, and a pair of dark, baggy, cargo jeans.  
  
He walked outside to see a mob of fans outside.  
  
"Shit," he heard from behind him, he turned around to see Trish standing right behind him in a white tank top, flare cargo khakis tight pants, and black platform boots.  
  
"Really," he said in a low voice.  
  
"Ohh! Jeff, look," she pointed at a white cab driving by.  
  
"Go for it, I have my car," Jeff snubbed her, and walked off in the other direction.  
  
Trish looked down at her feet, as they became foggy with tears. Jeff was the only guy she had ever actually liked, ever since, well, the night a man in a black ski mask took something she could never get back.  
  
She hailed the cab, and quickly got in, throwing her bag in front of her, "The Plaza," she murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.  
  
"Yes ma'am," a gruff voice said from the front seat.  
  
Jeff walked to his black corvette. He noticed a shadowy person, about the size of Edge, sitting in the driver's seat.  
  
He assumed it was Adam, and went ahead and threw his bag in the trunk.  
  
Someone dressed in all black, hit him in the head with something heavy, his 6'1" figure collapsed to the ground.  
  
"Come on Johnny, I can't pick him up," the figure in black said.  
  
Another figure in black climbed out of the car, and grabbed Jeff's legs, and the two of them threw Jeff into the backseat.  
  
"What the hell, this isn't the way to the Plaza, where are you going?" Trish asked the driver.  
  
"We ain't going to the Plaza, Blonde," a man turned around and shoved the cold barrel of a gun between her eyes, "Now sit back, and shut up, you dirty little slut, I do have a few things in mind before I'll have to kill you," he grabbed her breast and turned around.  
  
She closed her eyes, and pulled her knees to her chin, and cried silently into her lap, she had never thought something like this would happen again. 


	3. Couldn't have waited one more day

The men threw Jeff into a cold damp basement of a large house. There was nothing, but a non-covered matress sitting on the ground in the middle of the room.   
  
They opened the door and threw his suitcase at him, "We took out your cellphone, and beeper, in case your wondering."   
  
Jeff laid down on the mattress, looking up at the spinning ceiling. He close his eyes. Would anybody know he was gone? He had made it somewhat of a ritual of going to the hotel and going straight to sleep, and he was too grumpy to wake up, so no one ever tried. He heard the distint sound of a sliding lock close.  
  
Trish heard the car stop, and felt a cold hand grip her around wrist, and drug her out of the cab. She hit the ground with a thud, and laid there in a ball, she didn't plan on making this easy for them.  
  
The man grabbed her around the waist, and carried her into the large house. She watched as he carried her to a door with four chain locks, a deadbolt, and a slide lock. He unlocked all of them and opened the door.  
  
Jeff lifted his head when he heard the door open. He saw a man throw Trish into the room, she fell down the six stairs, and landed in a heap.  
  
"I'll be back for some fun later, baby," the man laughed cruelly, and closed, and locked the door behind him.  
  
"Trish?" Jeff ran over to her, and helped her up, he relized that they knocked her out. He eazily picked her up, and laid her on the bed.   
  
Slowly she came around, and blinked up at him, "Where, am I? Jeff?"  
  
"I'm here, but I have no idea where we are, all I know is that we are in a basement," he sat down next to her, and held her head up.  
  
"I'm fine, Jeff, thanks," she pushed him away.  
  
He raised his eyebrow at her, giving her a 'I thought you liked me' look.  
  
"Sorry, I'm so scared though, Jeff, they're going to, they're go to," she broke down in tears, she couldn't say it, she couldn't, she mouthed the words, and pointed to her chest, "me, Jeff, they can't, they can't," she broke down in sobs.  
  
Jeff rubbed her back. Never in a million years did he expect to feel close to Trish. They were never on the same level, she just wasn't the kind of person that he went for, but, then again, he had never really tried to get to know her.  
  
The door opened again. Jeff wrapped Trish into his arms, trying to hide her.  
  
"We called Vince, Matt, and Amy, they have 'til 8 o'clock Sunday night to pay 2 million dollars ransom," one of the men that took Jeff stood at the door, he threw a loaf of bread, and a bottle of water.  
  
Trish pulled herself together, walked over to pick up the food.  
  
"Wonder how long that's surpossed to last us?" Jeff asked, looking at the little amount of supplies they had.  
  
"Well, we need to conserve," Trish took the bread, and pulled two small chunks off, and threw one of them to Jeff. He caught it, and looked up at her. She sat Indian-style across from him, and they ate their small amout of food they had in their hands.  
  
She laid back on the mattress, and sighed, "Well, now I wish I'd eaten lunch." She looked around the bare room that they were in, "Um, Jeff?"  
  
"Yeah?" he looked up at her.  
  
"Where the hell is the bathroom?"  
  
"Don't think we have one," he laughed.  
  
"They couldn't have waited one more day," she growled.  
  
"Oh shit, sorry Trish," Jeff destpritly held back a smirk.  
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Hey Guyz! Thanx for reading, PLZ review!!! Thanky guyiez! 


	4. When I was 16...

The door opened again, and the man that kidnapped Trish opened the door. She looked up, at him, and grabbed Jeff's hand quickly.  
  
"Get up here, Blonde," he yelled.  
  
"No," Jeff yelled up at him.  
  
The man marched down the stairs, and looked Jeff in the eye. Jeff wrapped his arm across her back, and pushed her behind him.  
  
"You're brave, Hardy. I'll leave her, for now. Now both of you get up there, you have 5 minutes, bathroom first door on the right."  
  
"Thank God," Trish said coming out of the bathroom.  
  
All the guys looked at her.  
  
"Nevermind," the kidnappers pushed her down into the basement, Jeff followed a few minutes later.  
  
The two of them sat on the matress, talking for the hours to pass before dawn. They talked about their childhoods and how they got into wrestling. They talked about everything under the sun, except, Trish's secret.  
  
"I'm sorry Trish," Jeff said quietly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I never gave you a chance," Jeff pulled her towards him.  
  
"I don't blame you, I don't really give guys a chance most of the time. Something just drew me to you," her arms found their way around his neck.  
  
"Why don't you give guys a chance?"  
  
"Because, I don't trust them."  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"When I was 16, I went to a club with my friends. I went out back to get some fresh air, and this guy comes up, and he, he, he just," the images of the night more than ten years ago played in her mind, even the pain was trying to come back, "he raped me, Jeff. That's why I don't trust men, but for some reason, I trust you, even if I don't want to."  
  
She looked away from him, and laid down on the hard mattress, "Good night, Jeff."   
  
Jeff stood up, and walked to the other side of the room, and grabbed his bag, before walking back over to the mattress. He pulled the handle down the zipper, and began digging through his stuff. He came to the bottom, and smiled evilly, those idiots forgot to take his 2-way messenger.  
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Thanks for reading, PLEASE REVIEW!!! 


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